


Deserving

by SandrC



Category: Dimension 20, Dimension 20: Unsleeping City, Unsleeping City
Genre: Kugrash apologizes to David, Wally is a good boy, Writing letters for closure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 15:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20623553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandrC
Summary: That morning, David Kugrich found an envelope in his mail covered in pawprints and dirt. It smelled vaguely of shit and mud. It had his name written on it in very blocky print.He slit the envelope open.Inside was a crumpled sheet of notebook paper covered in familiar writing. He started to read it.Dear David,





	Deserving

**Author's Note:**

> LET👏THE👏BASTARD👏RAT👏HAVE👏CLOSURE
> 
> I have a lot of feelings about Kugrash.
> 
> Was the line about him having been a rat for thirty-five years a throwaway? Probably. Am I going to let it stop me from weeping openly about the fact that he probably only has five years left, provided he doesn't get killed first? Fuck no.
> 
> We got him reconciling with Wally but Wally is a doll. Gimme that David closure. The dude probably won't forgive him, but he doesn't need to. Bruce was, as Kugrash admits, a terrible person. He's better as a rat. There's a lot to unpack.
> 
> This did get way longer than I expected lol. Didn't mean for it to hit 2K+ Ah well...this is what happens when I get inspired.
> 
> I love my dumpster druid son. Fucking dope. Thank you Murph.

“You gotta tell him.”

“First off: I don’t ‘_gotta_’ do nothin." Wally let out a whine but Kugrash continued, more used to pushing through how much he fucking loved his kid, despite his cute fucking face. "Second: he fucking _hates_ me! And for _good goddamn reason_, too, but what would I even say?" He gestured about with his tiny rat claws. "Sorry I fucked your life up by being a piece of shit. Also I'm _not_ dead?" He wrinkled his snout in frustration and rubbed his claws together. It was a nervous habit for sure, but he was _nervous_. David wouldn't _want_ to hear from him! He had _every right_ to be nervous about this.

"You could tell him the truth?"

_Fucking_—

_Too goddamn good_ for this world. _Fuck_. What the shit did he expect from this fucking kid?

Kugrash's snout scrunched up as he tried to not cry. He pawed at his face and sniffled. "Sure but _how_? Walk up to him like _this_—" he gestured to all of him, whiskery eyebrows raised, "—and say '_Ey_, David, _uh_, it's me, your dad. _Not_ dead. Also a rat. Sorry for not keeping in contact for thirty five years. Heard you have kids, _that's_ nice. Again, sorry for disappearing, not my choice'?! I _doubt_ he'd take it even _a quarter_ as well as _you_ did. Assuming he'd hear me out at all..."

"_Aww_, dad. You're sellin' yourself short." Wally patted his head with one meaty hand, getting that spot right behind his left ear that he couldn't reach any more. Kugrash leaned into it, still a little touch-starved. "You just gotta _try_. Maybe write him a letter?"

"A _letter_?" Well slap him silly and call him a cheap whore. "Not a bad idea. Dunno how good my penmanship is nowadays but, _sure_. If it means so much to you, I can fuck with a letter."

"And if your pen-_whatever_ isn't up t'snuff, then I can always help. It isn't gonna be _fancy_ or nuthin, but it'll be _something_, right?"

"Yeah." _God_ he was getting fucking choked up. _Shit_. Kugrash snorted and rubbed his eyes. "Let's damn well _try_."

Wally grabbed a busted up spiral bound notebook and a pencil from his desk and sat down at his dinner table. He gestured at Kugrash to _up-and-at-em_, smiling softly. Kugrash scrambled up on a chair and then the table, shuffling about to look down on the pages. Wally passed on the pencil and Kugrash held it in his paws. _Both_ of them. _Fuck_ it's been a while since he's done this.

The paper was janky but serviceable. Kugrash's _penmanship_, however, was _super fucking not_. It tore the sheet up, leaving gouges in the pages below.

"_Dav sorry I fakn suk?_" Wally tried out. Kugrash grit his teeth and handed the pencil back to him, eraser-first.

"Fuck _that_ noise. Guess these hands aren't built for writing any more." Wally gave him a patient smile. "You gonna take my dictation?"

"Best I can."

"_Good_." He took a long moment to roll his words around in his head. When he found the order he wanted to try, he started talking.

"David, I don't know if you ever expected me to get in—_fuck_, no wait, _back up_—I don't know if you ever expected to hear from me again—_yeah_, that shit. Period there, Wally. _Yeah_ okay. _Uh_. Let's continue." _Fucking shit_ it was hard to word when it mattered. _Goddamn_. He soldiered on. "Shit's fucked and I fucked up and, _uh_, I can't ever _un_-fuck that. And I'm _sorry_. And I don't think that I can ever talk to you face-to-face for _various_ reasons. _Namely_ I'm a piece of shit and you deserve better."

Kugrash paused. Wally had stopped and was looking down at the piss-poor excuse for a letter, brow furrowed in contemplation? _Confusion_? Maybe his ability to read human emotions had deteriorated over the years.

"What's up?"

"I don't know if this is right?" Wally started. This confused Kugrash, who focused on his pensive look. "Like, I _get_ that you feel this way? But it...you're spending a _lot_ of time talking about you being not great and I understand you feel that way for a reason and all but, _like_, I _dunno_? It feels..._bad_."

Kugrash fought back the urge to snarl. He had to _people_ right now. He had to _fucking people_. "So what do _you_ suggest?"

"_Well_...maybe start with letting him know you love him?"

_Fuck_. What the fuck did he do to _deserve_ this fucking kid?

"_Coz_ like, it helped _me_ to know that you still cared, _right_? Even if I thought you was Rat Jesus and all, when you said you loved me and were my dad?" He took a moment to rub at his eyes but he continued on, "So maybe telling David you love him will help him know it's you?"

"_Wally_, bud," Kugrash's voice cracked, "I...don't think David _cares_ if I love him. And it's—it's not anyone's fault but _my own_? And that's _fine_. That's—_that's fine_." It was _not_ fucking fine.

For a long, painful moment, Wally was silent. Not a single fucking word. Then he started up again, face screwed into a wobbly, frustrated grimace.

"_No it isn't_. It's _not_ fine!" Kugrash blinked in surprise. _Fuck,_ man, proof Wally was _his_ for sure. The _lungs_ on the boy. "I know David is _hurting_ but he can't keep bein' mean like this! It hurts _you_, it hurts _him_, it hurts _me_—!" He choked a bit but inhaled sharply and kept on. "And he's _bein' rude_, keeping a grudge like this! He needs to _stop_ and you need to tell him to coz you're our dad! And you _love_ us, right?"

_Oh fucking shit_. Oh _god_ fucking _shit_. _Fucking_ shit.

"_Yeah_," he managed to croak out. "_Yeah_ I fucking love _both_ of you _so goddamn much_." Kugrash wiped at his face to clear his eyes. "So what do you want me to say? What _should_ I say?"

"Tell him you love him. Tell him the _truth_."

Fucking Occam's Razor.

"_Okay_. Let's fucking try again."

He got back into position, crouched underneath Wally's chin, staring at the new page Wally was working with. Wally grabbed the pencil in his left hand and he nodded. "Let's."

"David. I, _uh_, guess now is a bad time for this, with what's going on with Robert and all, which I don't know if you know about that shit, but it's _bad_." Rambling or not, this was...this was something that needed to be said. Needed to be told. "_Anyway_, less about Robert fucking Moses and more about _us_. Uh, _hi_. It's me. _Your dad_. And I'm sure you never expected to hear from me again _which_, fucking fair, _uh_, but I'm not _dead_. And I'm not _hiding_. And I am _so_ fucking sorry.

"I was a _terrible_ person. I, _Bruce Kugrich_, was a _terrible_ fucking human being and a _worse_ father, but I am _trying_ now. I've _been_—_I'm_—there are things you _can't_ see here, in New York, in the world. Not just because you aren't fucking _able_ to but—you _literally_ _can't_ David. Someone would have to _show_ you and then you could never _not_ see it and I don't think it would be fair to you. You would have to know it was there _forever_ and you have a family. It would—it _ruined_ my friend's marriage, knowing this. It ruined a new friend's life, being thrown head-first into it. I couldn't bring you into this and, even though Wally knows, it was a fucking _accident_. _Please_ know that I wouldn't do this to him on purpose. _Never_ on purpose. _Please_ know that." Kugrash took a shuddering, wheezing breath and scrubbed at his face, trying to wipe away the tears. Wally paused his writing to pet his head, slowly. He leaned into Wally's touch and sighed.

"You didn't do nothin' but make sure I was okay. Don't cry about that. I got to meet you again. I don't mind knowing this stuff." Wally continued to pet Kugrash. _God_, what the _fuck_ did he do to deserve this kid? What did he do to deserve this _kindness_? Why had he thrown all of it away when he had the chance to have it wholecloth? "Don't apologize to me. It's _fine_."

"Yeah..._yeah_." Kugrash gathered himself and continued. "Bruce Kugrich got his in the end—_I_ got mine in the end. You cheat the wrong person and it can ruin your life, your work, your _everything_. It's _fine_ though. I'm working through it. I'm trying to make the best of it, _even_ if it means _never_ seeing you, seeing your wife, seeing your kids. Even if it means that I only connected with Wally by sheer bad luck. Or _good_ luck. The verdict is out on that one.

"You're doing _great_. I just wanna say that. People like that—like _me_—deserve to rot in jail. _I'm_ not there, currently, but I've also been _barely a person_ for thirty-five years. I didn't get off scot-free. I can tell you that. Don't think for a _second_ I got away with _anything_. I've been fighting tooth and claw to make better of it. Make my own of it. Make myself better because of it. In _spite_ of it. In, I dunnno, fucking _conjecture_ with it? Is _that_ the right word? _Conjecture_? Fuck if _I_ know." He laughed and shifted under Wally's head. Surprisingly, it wasn't bitter. It wasn't bitter laughter. It was..._content_? "But I'm making due. I've been taking care of the homeless and abandoned people. Not so much _myself_, but I've been making sure they have food and shelter and warmth and everything _I should've_ given you and Wally when you were growing up. Because I can't go back and fix that and _that's how shit is_. It sucked and _it sucks_ and _that's_ that.

"Just fucking, _I_ dunno, know that I'm not dead. I'm not _hiding_. I'm _trying_ to help and, because I was fucking lucky enough to run into Wally when I did, I'm gonna give you this courtesy." He took in a deep breath and exhaled. Gather your courage. Gather your strength. Buck up, nut up, and fucking _say it_. "_I love you_, David, and I am _so_ fucking sorry I ruined your life in the way I did. I'm proud of you and what you've become and what you've _done_. I'm proud of the fact that you are _so_ fucking _unlike_ me. You are a _wonderful_ father, a _wonderful_ husband, and a _wonderful_ human being. _Thank you_ for making sure Wally was taken care of. _Thank you_ for not letting what I did break you. And I hope I get to see you before your funeral but, fucking knowing my luck, you may be at mine.

"Love, _I guess_, as weird as that is to write after all these years, Kugrash. Because I'm _done_ being Bruce Kugrich and you deserve to know my name."

Spent. Tired. _Emotionally_ fucking _drained_, Kugrash settled down underneath Wally's head and exhaled. Long and slow, a release of tension, he exhaled all the anxiety and frustration and fear that had been building, and he felt so much better.

Wally was blubbering above him. Eyes watery, his handwriting got a little crooked, but he kept on. He kept writing. He finished the letter.

_God_ he loved that boy. He wanted the best for him. Wanted him to be happy and the fact that '_happy_' for Wally was _with him_ was so _goddamn_ staggering and _wild_.

And _despite_ all of this pain, all of this raw emotion, he felt..._better_. He felt lighter. Warm. _Relieved_.

After a few more passes, the letter was ready and Kugrash sealed it into an envelope and wrote David's name on it in slow, blocky print.

"You think he's gonna believe it's me?"

"I dunno, but it can't hurt to _try_."

Kugrash sighed again. "What the fuck did I do to deserve you?"

_Nothing_. And _that's_ the beauty of it.

* * *

_Dear David,_  
_ I know now isn't the best time for me to try this, considering all that's going on right now, but I wanted to make sure I was doing right by you. You deserve this much._

_It's me, your dad. I'm not dead. I'm not on an island somewhere. I'm still in New York and have been for a while. I just couldn't make contact with you for reasons beyond both of our controls. And, if I'm being honest, I wasn't the best father I could — or should — have been. You deserved better and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you._

_As for why I'm making contact now, through this letter, instead of face-to-face? There are things that happen in New York that you literally cannot understand unless someone explains them and then, after that, you can't ever not understand them again. It ruined a friend of mine's marriage. It ruined another friend's life. I won't have it take away what you've built for yourself with your wife and kids and the work that you do. So just trust me when I say that this letter is the best option, even if I've had to rewrite it a bunch._

_I was a terrible person. I'm trying to be better. It's a process, but I'm working on it. But you, you're making sure people like me can't get away with shit like that. That your kids have a dad and your wife has a husband. That you're there for everyone who needs you._

_I couldn't be more proud._

_I haven't gotten off scot-free, in case you're wondering. I crossed the wrong person and I paid for it but Wally helped me realize I could be better than who I was. So I've been taking care of the homeless, making sure they have food and drink and shelter and warmth. I'm doing what I should've done for you two, even if it is a bit late for this change of heart. I've got friends who care for me and who I care for. I've got a place to stay and shit to keep me alive. I'm not thriving, but I'm doing okay. It's enough._

_So I wanted to take a moment and write this because you deserve to know that I'm still around. That I'm not the same asshole of a man I once was. And also that I'm sorry._

_I ruined your childhood. You and Wally deserved better and I let my fear turn into greed and drive me farther from where I should've been. But you did so much better than I could have ever hoped by picking yourself up, making sure that the both of you were okay, and growing up into a wonderful person. You are everything I am not and I am so proud of that fact._

_I really do hope that we can meet up one day. Preferably before your funeral, coz that means I fucked up beyond reason. Definitely before mine, namely coz I don't think that's how dying works. But if all goes well and I'm lucky as shit, we probably can have a heart to heart. Or, at least, some kind of conversation. Wouldn't blame you if you resorted to decking me. I'd've deserved it._

_Love,_  
_ Bruce Kugrich_


End file.
